


A Christmas Not Stolen

by ATTHS_TWICE



Category: The X-Files
Genre: F/M, Post-Episode: s06e06 How the Ghosts Stole Christmas
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-12-22
Updated: 2018-12-22
Packaged: 2019-09-24 06:15:47
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 7,141
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17095385
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ATTHS_TWICE/pseuds/ATTHS_TWICE
Summary: Scully and Mulder spend Christmas Eve together after enduring time in the haunted, and cursed, house.





	A Christmas Not Stolen

**Author's Note:**

  * For [MonikaFileFan](https://archiveofourown.org/users/MonikaFileFan/gifts).



> Oh.. this was a fun one! Part of the Secret Santa Group, I was given MonikaFileFan. I had NO idea what to write, even given her prompts and what she enjoys reading: 
> 
> “S5- S7, and S11. Maybe AU through S8-S11. UST turned RST, Angst w/happy end, Smut, Fluff. I'm up for anything. Maybe AU, teambuilding, or first kiss and on... But honestly, I'd love to be surprised.”
> 
> The wheels began to spin and I formulated a plan. I wasn’t sure I wanted to do a Christmas story just because it was Christmas time. But then, I had to do it. Season 6 is MY favorite and this particular episode is a favorite of most of us. I begin to write and I seemed to smile the whole time. I loved this story. I thought I was done, sent it off to a beta, and then I added about 800 more words! 
> 
> I am so in love with this story, and I hope you enjoy it too Monika! Merry Christmas and Happy Holidays! 
> 
> Also, thank you to Linlo @cerulean_blue for being my beta and helping me with aspects of the story. You’re awesome!
> 
> Now! On with the story!!

The entire drive home, Scully’s heart was pounding. The hairs on the back of her neck kept standing up and she could swear she felt someone in the car with her. She kept checking the rear view mirror, positive she would see someone one of the times she glanced back.

The past hour at 1501 Larkspur Lane felt like an eternity. The stress and the fear had been almost paralyzing. She shook her head and tried not to think about what had transpired. Maurice and Lyda could not be real, and therefore she would push the thought of them out of her mind. Her whole body shuddered, trying to shake off the weird feelings and thoughts of the night.

She pulled up to her apartment and began grabbing the gifts from her car. She had to make two trips before it was all inside. She set everything down in the living room and shrugged out of her jacket. She shivered in the cold of her apartment and sighed as she once again tried to forget the evening. 

She brought the gifts over by the coffee table and grabbed a roll of wrapping paper. She laid it out on the coffee table and picked up the scissors. As she cut, she thought of Maurice and Lyda standing in the library with their hands up and wounds on display. She remembered the hole through Lyda’s stomach and she shivered again. 

She kept cutting, measuring out the paper for the gift. Her stomach lurched at the sudden memory of the scent of her blood, as she had crawled out of the library and across the foyer, trying desperately to get to the front door. She closed her eyes, placed the package down and started to wrap it, but all she could picture was the blood on her shirt; sticky, red, and pungent.

She stood up and walked to her room. No way she was going to be able to wrap presents right now. Maybe she needed to just go to bed, relax and not think of anything anymore. One look at her bed though, she knew she would not be able to sleep tonight. The thoughts of ghosts and those bullet holes were swirling in her mind. Even the smell of a cozy fire, which always calmed her, would be enough to put her on edge tonight. She needed to get out of there.

She walked out of her room, grabbed her jacket and slid it back on. She picked up the gift she had purchased for Mulder, the only one she had already wrapped. They had said they were not going to exchange gifts, but she could not resist when she found a videotape called “Alien Autopsies- Myth or Truth?” She knew he would get a kick out of it.

She picked up her keys and looked at the pile of gifts she was leaving behind. She sighed and shook her head. She opened the door and headed for Mulder’s.

*****************************************

She took the gift Mulder offered her, her giddiness spilling over as they both hurried to the couch. She ripped the ribbon off, unable to contain her excitement. She usually took her time opening gifts, but not tonight, she needed something happy. She saw a glimpse of bright pink and her curiosity was piqued. She kept ripping the paper and then she began to laugh.

Inside the gift, there were four small rubber ducks and one small bottle of bath oil. She pulled the top off the tube and took out the ducks, setting them on the coffee table. Pink, purple, yellow, and blue. All her ducks in a row. She opened the bottle of bath oil and smelled it. Lavender. She closed her eyes as she breathed in deeply, already imagining the calm it would bring her.

She closed the bottle and set it on the coffee table with the ducks. She shook her head at such a Mulder gift. She looked over to find him grinning at the videotape in his hand. She smiled at him when he looked at her, his eyes sparkling. Her gaze dropped to his lips as it always seemed to, but even more so lately. He mimicked her gaze and they sat quietly staring at one another.

She cleared her throat and broke their gaze, looking over at the rubber ducks on the coffee table, and she laughed. She picked up the pink one and turned to him.

“These are so cute,” she said with a giggle, looking at its smiling happy face.

“Yeah, well, I figured you might like some company in the tub,” he said with a smile, and then seemed to realize how it sounded. “I mean, I didn’t, not to imply..” he stammered and she laughed.

She bumped him with her shoulder and his laughter joined hers. They quieted and she sighed. She looked at him and grimaced, the night once again playing through her head. He answered her look with a sigh, shaking his head and standing up. 

“You want something to eat? To drink?” he asked her, taking off his jacket and throwing it on his chair.

“ _You_ have food in this place?” she asked in mock shock, setting down the pink duck before standing and pulling off her own jacket.

“You wound me, Scully,” he said and walked toward the kitchen. She laughed and followed him, hanging her jacket on the dining room chair as she passed it. She took off her shoes and padded into his kitchen with bare feet.

She leaned against the fridge and crossed her arms as she watched him taking items out of the cupboard- sugar, cocoa powder, vanilla, and a bag of mini marshmallows. He stepped to the fridge and tapped her on the hip, wordlessly telling her to move. She stepped to the side as he opened it and took out a gallon of milk. He grabbed a saucepan and began to measure out the ingredients. He turned on the burner and took a wooden spoon from the drawer.

She stepped closer and watched him, absolutely fascinated by what he was doing. He had done this before, no question. He knew how to do this without a recipe. Cocoa powder, sugar, and some milk was added to the saucepan. He stirred it, watching it with a small smile on his face.

He looked up at her and grinned. “My mom used to make cocoa for us like this at Christmastime. Her mom used to make it and it became a tradition. I know it’s something that could be made anytime, but it’s always only been a Christmas thing for me,” he said with a shrug.

She felt tears prick her eyes and she blinked them back. Mulder did not have many happy memories of his past. Hearing that there were some in there made her happy.

“Are you going to see your mom today?” she asked, clearing her throat, and swallowing down her tears.

“No,” he said with a small droop in his shoulders. “No.. she’s uh, a friend of hers invited her to go on a cruise. Her husband passed away a few months ago and they had had tickets for it. She invited my mom to go with her so it’s not a sad trip. So..I’ll just be here.” He looked at her and smiled.

She gave him a half smile, but her heart hurt for him. Alone at Christmas. No wonder he had sympathized with such a tragic ghost story. She should have asked what his plans were before this evening. She knew he would not have accepted an invitation to join her, not wanting to intrude on her family time, but she should have asked. She knew he also would not have accepted an invite since he knew Bill could barely tolerate him. He would not have wanted to cause any problems.

Since her cancer and then Mulder’s sudden appearance in San Diego last Christmas, she knew Bill would balk at having “that work guy” at a family gathering. She thought wickedly of inviting Mulder, just to see Bill’s face as they walked in together, at such an early hour. No amount of coffee could prepare him for _that_ wake up call.

“Mulder,” she began, but he stopped her with a look. He shook his head, and shrugged his shoulders. She sighed and relented.

He looked back at the saucepan and stirred it again. He reached for the milk and poured in some more, stirring it all together, adding a splash of vanilla. He stirred for a little while before he motioned with his chin and she opened the cupboard, reaching to take out two mugs.

She smiled as she took out the one she got him recently for his birthday. A green mug with a grey alien face on one side. On the opposite side it said, “We’re grey, get it right.” He had laughed and thanked her repeatedly for that mug. She set it down and then grabbed the one she usually used when she was over, one of midnight blue with constellations on it.

He smiled as he turned off the burner, picked up the saucepan, and poured the hot cocoa into the mugs. He took some marshmallows out of the bag and added them to the drink. He looked at her and held up his index finger. He reached up in the cupboard and grabbed two candy canes from a box, unwrapped them, and added them to the mug. He placed his palms up, hands spread wide, and grinned at her.

She laughed, picked up her mug, squeezed his arm, and headed for the table. He chuckled as he followed her. She set her mug down and pulled out her chair. He set his mug down and returned to the kitchen. She sat down, curious what he was doing. He walked back with his hands behind his back and a big grin on his face.

“I offer to you, the finest toaster pastries a cupboard can hold,” he said as he brought his hands forward and flourishly presented two boxes of Pop-Tarts: brown sugar and frosted strawberry.

She grinned and pointed to the frosted strawberry. He nodded and set the box down, taking the other back into the kitchen. He brought out a plate, sat down next to her, and took out a pack of Pop-Tarts, ripping open the wrapper with his teeth. He took them out and set them on the plate. He nodded and she laughed again.

“You never cease to amaze me, Mulder,” she said, stirring her hot cocoa with the candy cane. He popped a marshmallow in his mouth and raised his eyebrows at her. She smiled at him. “You take the time to buy the ingredients, make homemade hot cocoa, with toppings no less, and then you eat Pop-Tarts.”

He laughed as he stirred his drink, breaking off a piece of the Pop-Tart and putting it in his mouth. He shrugged his shoulders and she smiled. They were quiet as they waited for the drinks to cool down. She ate a few pieces of the Pop-Tart, then tested the hot chocolate. It was the perfect temperature.

She took a big drink. It was warm and absolutely delicious. It made her think of sledding, snowball fights, and building snowmen, before heading inside to warm up with hot cocoa by the fire. She closed her eyes, smiling at the way memories could be tied to smells and tastes. She opened her eyes to find him watching her, as he sucked on his candy cane. She sighed as she set her drink down, wiping her mouth with her hand.

“That didn’t really happen, right? We didn’t really.. there weren’t really _ghosts_ in that house, right?” she asked him again, her face worried.

“I don’t know, Scully,” he said with a sigh, shaking his head as he put his candy cane back in his mug. “It felt real. I mean, I _touched_ , Lyda. Physically put my hands on her. She felt real, solid. Not like a ghost is portrayed in movies, materializing like smoke that is easily walked through.”

He looked at her as he picked up his mug, and she shook her head and sighed as she looked down. She put her hand on her stomach, still feeling the bullet pierce her skin, the pain of it inside her, the feel of the blood on her hands. What hurt more than that though, was the betrayal she had felt that Mulder would shoot her. She shivered and wrapped her hands around her mug.

“Still can’t believe you shot me,” she said, raising her eyebrows, as she lifted her mug to her mouth.

“You shot me!” he said setting his own mug down, wiping his mouth on his hand.

“I did not shoot you!” she said, setting her mug down and waving her hands around. “You came in the room, asked where I was and _shot at me_! You were yelling about what was the point of spending Christmas alone just to live another year and be lonely. Then, you shot me, Mulder!”

“I did not shoot you!” he said, throwing up his hands. “I came in the room, you were on the floor, and as I was checking on you, _you_ shot _me_!”

They stared at each other, confusion, and disbelief settling in as they realized what had happened. She could no longer deny that the ghosts were there, even as she still did not want to believe it. She had touched Maurice’s hat, felt it in her hand before she fainted. It was _real_.

Maurice and Lyda _had_ been there and they had tricked them. They had made her think something that was untrue, that Mulder was unhinged and a threat to her. If he did not remember shooting her and vice versa, that meant it had been the ghosts in some way. But.. _how_?

“I don’t think we’ll ever really know, Scully,” he said quietly, as if he was reading her mind. “It’s Christmas and their time has passed. One day a year to return and spend Christmas in their old home. An eternity together, but only one night to return and haunt the living.”

He leaned forward, his hands locked together on his knees. She nodded and picked up her mug again. She drank the rest of the cocoa and then began to munch on the candy cane. She thought about Maurice and Lyda, spending their one night trying to trick others to kill themselves. How sad it truly was, that they derived joy from the pain and death of others.

Christmas was an interesting choice, but she could understand why. Many people were alone and it was a date with a statistically high suicide rate. She looked at Mulder, his head down as he looked at his hands. He had known that he would be alone on this day. Maybe that was why he had wanted her out there with him, because it was Christmas Eve and he was alone and lonely. Rather than sit here on his own and feel that despair, he had asked her to join him on a ghost hunt. She sighed as she thought of his rather lonely solitary life.

She put her candy cane in her mug and wiped her hands on her pants. She touched his arm and he looked up. She searched his face, looking for any signs of sadness. He smiled at her and she smiled back. He tilted his head and raised his eyebrows, asking her a silent question.

“I was just thinking about it again,” she said quietly, her hand still on his arm. “Christmas seemed like a strange date at first, but it makes sense. It can be a lonely day. Lots of people are alone and maybe.. maybe they feel that they always will be and the despair gets to them.”

She tried to relay with her eyes what she was not saying, that she was worried about him. His eyes flicked across her face and then he smiled slowly. He shook his head and covered her hand with his, causing her heart to race. Stop it, Dana, she said to herself.

“I’m not lonely, Scully,” he said, his voice almost a whisper. “It’s impossible to be lonely when you’re here.”

He stared at her with those eyes that made her abandon her own Christmas plans, walk into a haunted house, chase down aliens, believe in psychics, and smile when she was hurting. Her heart was no longer racing, but felt as if it had stopped. She felt that if she died right now, she would be happy here in this moment with him forever, the scent of hot cocoa and candy canes filling the room.

His hand moved from on top of hers to her knee. She could hear her heart now, pounding in her ears. She turned until their knees were touching, both his hands on the outside of each of hers. He stared at her and she began to breathe hard. Her gaze dropped to his lips again and her mouth felt dry. It was wrong, but god, she wanted to kiss him. To learn how his lips would feel against her own.

“Scully,” he whispered, and she watched her name come out of his lips. It made her stomach flip and her body feel like liquid. He increased the pressure on her knees and she drew in a breath.

“Scully,” he whispered again, leaning in toward her. “I don’t have any mistletoe to meet under by chance, but.. could I kiss you?”

She nodded and then he was kissing her. Tentative, soft, and perfect. Minty and sweet. He leaned back and she leaned forward. He smiled softly and his lips were on hers again, more insistent this time. She grabbed his shirt, her hands sliding around to his neck pulling him closer. She opened her mouth and touched her tongue to his bottom lip. He groaned and his hands moved to her hips.

They broke apart, breathing hard, their faces close together. Her fingers scraped lightly at the back of his neck and he sighed. He gripped her hips and she whined. He pulled her forward and she tumbled into his lap. She gasped as she made contact with his groin. He looked at her, his eyes intense. She moved a hand to his face and traced his lips with her fingers. He kissed her fingers and then sucked one into his mouth. She moaned, feeling herself becoming wet.

She pulled her finger from his mouth and kissed him again. This time their tongues were not left out. He stroked hers with his and she felt lightheaded. She felt his reaction to their kiss and she thrilled to it. God, it had been so long since she felt a man respond to her touch.

His fingers dug into her back and she answered by pushing her nails into his neck. He groaned and pulled back, kissing across her chin and down her neck. He licked her throat, then sucked her chin. Christ, no one had ever done that and who knew it would cause such a reaction in her. She ground her hips into him and he cried out as he pulled back, staring in her eyes.

“Sc..Scully,” he said, swallowing hard, licking his lips. God, those lips were delicious. Cocoa and mint. She wanted another taste.

She placed her lips on his and kissed him softly, before pulling his bottom lip into her mouth. That lip had teased her for so long, she needed to taste it, feel it with her tongue and teeth. He moaned again and she felt powerful.

She pulled back and put her mouth by his ear. “Mulder, do you have a bed?” she breathed.

He jumped and she heard him gulp. He nodded against her neck. She licked his ear and bit his earlobe. “Take me there,” she whispered.

He growled and grabbed her tightly as he stood up. She squealed as she was lifted in his arms. She wrapped her legs around his waist and laughed. He took a few steps and stopped. She looked at him and smiled. His face was serious, as if gauging if this was real, if she actually was asking to do this with him.

“Mulder, bedroom, let’s go,” she said, squeezing him with her thighs. He groaned and stumbled. She laughed again and he began to walk toward his bedroom door. He pushed it open and walked to the end of his bed, and set her down. She sat down and then lay back, the bed moving under her. Oh..a waterbed. He.. he had a waterbed..

She looked up as the bed rocked slightly and, in shock, she saw mirrors on the ceiling. Her eyes grew wide as she looked at herself lying there. What in the hell? She raised up on her elbows and looked at him standing there watching her. She opened her mouth to speak, so many questions running through her mind. At the nervous look on his face though, she crooked her finger at him, patting the spot next to her. He sat down and then laid back, looking at her in the mirrors.

“What is this, Mulder? When did you put these up?” she asked him in a hushed tone, the questions still going through her head, but also some very dirty thoughts.

“I didn’t put them up and don’t know how they got there, Scully,” he said, sounding sheepish. “When we got back from Nevada, they were there. All of it was here- the mirrors, the waterbed. I..I think the guys did it, but they won’t confess to it.”

He turned on his side toward her, searching her face. “Do you hate it?” he asked nervously, and she felt a sense of dejá vu, as if they had been here before and he had asked her that exact same question.

“No. No I don’t hate it,” she said, turning her head to look in his eyes, completely honest with her answer. She did not hate it. In fact, quite the opposite. She was imagining watching him as he did naughty things to her. Watching his body moving as he was inside her. Oh, god. Her stomach fluttered at the thought of how it would be to see and feel him at the same time. It was something she had never done before and to do it with him.. she throbbed with anticipation.

She turned on her side toward him and he leaned forward, his lips landing perfectly on hers, as if they had been doing this for years. She pulled him closer, rolling onto her back,  bringing him to lie on top of her. She ran her hands down his back as she opened her legs, allowing him to settle further between them. His tongue was affecting parts of her body, in the most delicious of ways, but she needed to feel more of him.

She started pulling at his shirt, trying to get it up so she could pull it off him. Some of his skin was exposed and she scraped her nails across it. He pushed into her as he pulled his mouth off hers. She moaned as she looked up in his eyes. She moved her hands and held his face between them. He smiled, pulling back and pulling her with him, off the end of the bed.

She stood and reached out, pulling at his shirt again, kissing along his chest as it was revealed to her. She bit his nipple lightly and he hissed at her. He lifted his shirt off his body and threw it across the room. He pulled at the bottom of her shirt, bringing her closer to him, beginning to undo her buttons. She was breathing hard as his fingers skimmed across her stomach, leaving goosebumps in their wake.

He got to the last button at the top, and slipped his hands inside her shirt to push it off her shoulders. She let it fall to the floor and stood in front of him in a light pink bra with lace and black piping. She was grateful she had put on something sexier this morning, instead of the white or beige she usually wore. Although, by the look on his face, she doubted it would matter.

He put his hands on her waist and ran them up her sides. She leaned into him and closed her eyes. He moved his hands to her back and began to feel around at her bra. She opened her eyes and laughed when he huffed out a breath.

“It’s in the front,” she said laughingly, knowing he was trying to find the clasp. He leaned back and reached for it, watching her eyes as he did.

She put her hands over his and together they undid the clasp. She shrugged it off and it fell behind her. He stared at her, his eyes traveling down, and he shook his head as he sighed.

“So beautiful,” he whispered, cupping a breast in his hand, his thumb grazing her nipple. She whined as she pushed into his hand.

He brought his hand to the other breast and held them reverently. She was breathing hard, sure this was a dream, and she would wake up any second. She could not really be standing in Mulder’s bedroom, topless, his hands caressing her breasts. But she was and this was actually happening.

“Scully,” Mulder breathed. He wrapped his arms around her, pulling her to him. Her breasts, pressed against his naked skin, made her feel weak. God, she needed to get the rest of her clothes off, she wanted to feel all of him.

She stepped back from his embrace and began to unbutton her pants. He inhaled and she looked at him, nodding at his pants. He sat on the edge of the bed and took of his shoes, tossing them in the corner. He pulled off his socks and threw them toward his shoes. He stood up and unbuttoned his pants, pushing them down his hips and legs. She watched him, her own hands stilling as she did.

He took his pants all the way off and stood in his boxers, staring at her. God, he was beautiful. His erection was straining against the fabric of his underwear and she throbbed at the knowledge of what they were about to do. She stood for a beat, simply staring at him.

He stepped closer to her and moved her hands. He unbuttoned and unzipped her pants, pushing them down her hips, following them down her body. He lifted each foot and helped her step out of her pants. He tossed them by his own clothes. He ran his hands lightly up her legs, as he stood to face her.

She pulled his face to hers and kissed him until they both pulled back, panting for breath. She reached a hand inside his boxers and stroked him. He pitched into her and breathed her name.

“Mulder,” she whispered back, feeling the size of him in her hand. He was breathing hard, his hand on her waist. She removed her hand and pushed at the waistband of his boxers. No more clothes. No more barriers. She needed them both naked.

He moved her hands and pushed his boxers off himself, standing before her nude and extremely hard. She took off her panties and stood before him nude and ready for him. His eyes roamed over her body and he shook his head. He put a hand on the nape of her neck and pulled her to him. He kissed her hard, her body crashing into his. She melted into him, her hands grasping at his upper arms.

He pushed her toward the bed and she felt the backs of her legs hit the edge. He held her as they fell onto it, the bed rocking with them. She moved and he followed. He kissed her cheeks, neck, under her ears, across her clavicle. He began to move down, his tongue licking between and then moving to her breasts. Kissing, licking, nibbling, she closed her eyes at the overwhelming feelings he was creating in her.

Her eyes flew open as she remembered the mirrors on the ceiling. She looked up and saw his head at one breast, his hand tweaking the nipple of the other. She gasped and he raised his head. He turned his head and he met her eyes in the mirror. He turned his head back and smiled as she looked back at him. He raised his eyebrows at her, giving her a saucy smile.

He moved further down her body and she felt desire pooling inside her. He moved her legs, opening her up to him, before raising his head to look at her.

“Watch, Scully. Watch me please you, watch me make you come,” he said quietly, and her eyes rolled back in her head. “No, Scully, open your eyes. Look up and watch.” She fought to open her eyes and then did as he said.

She saw her naked body lying on his bed, her face flushed, nipples hard, her breathing ragged. She saw him between her open legs and she felt her orgasm already on the horizon. She looked down at him and he smiled, before lowering his head to her center. She watched him, as she felt his tongue inside her. She cried out and her head fell back.

He licked, kissed, and sucked at her. She grabbed his head and looked up again. She watched her hands hold his head, saw his hands wrapped around her thighs, his back moving as his mouth loved her body.

“Oh my god,” she moaned, pulling him close to her. She put her feet on his back and pushed into him as she felt it, like a wave cresting, huge and unstoppable.

She watched, feeling everything all at once. His tongue on her clit, flicking back and forth. Her hands in the silkiness of his hair. Her feet on his back, her soles burning from the heat his body was creating. She watched as she felt _him_ everywhere, and she came. The wave cresting and crashing like a tsunami. Her thighs closed against him as she called his name, her eyes closing as she could no longer keep them open.

She felt him moving, but she was unable to look at him, much less think clearly. She was still quaking from what he had done to her. He kissed her thighs, her hip bones, her belly button. She felt his tongue trailing up her stomach and she opened her eyes. She tried to focus on his face as she attempted to catch her breath.

“Mulder,” she whispered, as he circled her nipples with his tongue. “Oh, Mulder.”

He kissed her neck, whispering her name against her skin. He bit lightly at her, and she yelped. He laughed against her throat and she tugged at his hair. He looked up, and she pulled his mouth to hers. He slowly stroked his tongue along hers and she pulled him closer, her legs going around his waist.

“Don’t you taste so delicious?” he asked her softly, as he lifted up, reaching down to touch her, sliding his fingers inside, making her gasp.

“Mulder. Mulder, oh..” she breathed, arching against him, stroking his arms, his back, anywhere she could.

He looked at her and she touched his face. She nodded as he looked in her eyes. He removed his fingers, centered himself over her, and slowly entered her body. She kept her eyes on his, wanting to see him as they did this together. She hitched her legs up higher, opening herself further to him. He exhaled as he fully seated himself inside her.

They both took deep breaths, saying the others name. She nudged him and he pulled out and slid back in, breathing her name, as he began to set a rhythm. She scraped her nails up his back as their pace began to cause the waterbed to rock harder. She closed her eyes, feeling as if they were making love in the ocean. The rocking of the water adding to the rocking of their bodies.

“Oh, Scully,” he moaned as he leaned on his forearms and began to thrust into her faster. She gripped onto him and looked up.

Holy fuck.. watching him thrust inside her, her legs wrapped around him, she tightened around him involuntarily and he cried out.

“Christ, Scully,” he moaned into her neck as he dropped his head down.

“Mulder..Mulder wait..stop..” she said, dropping her legs from his body, pushing him back.

“What? Scully?” he said, lifting his head and pulling back. He looked worried as he pulled out of her. She quickly moved, pushing him onto his back and straddling him.

“You need to see it, Mulder. To watch,” she said as she held him in her hand, positioning her body, before sliding down his length. Her toes curled at the feel of him inside her this way. “Look up, Mulder. Watch me. Watch us.”

He moaned, grasping her breasts as she began to ride him, her hands on his chest. She knew when he had looked up because his breath hitched and he swore. He moved his hands to her hips, not guiding, just holding on as he watched her in the mirrors.

“Do you feel it, Mulder? Do you feel it as you’re watching? Oh my god.. it’s.. it’s,” she could not think of the word for it.

“Out of this world,” he said, thrusting up into her, calling her name, as she felt him grip her hips tighter.

She cried out and then leaned down, close to his ear. “Watch, Mulder. Watch as we come,” she whispered.

He looked at her as she pulled back and then he looked up again. She leaned back bracing herself on his thighs. She looked up too, meeting his eyes in the mirror, as she continued to ride him.

He cried out after a few more thrusts, her name on his lips as he came, and she convulsed around him. She fell forward and collapsed on top of him, their breathing rough and fast, his heart pounding against her ear, the bed still rocking as their bodies slowed.

“Scully.. oh god..Scully,” he said, as he tried to catch his breath. She kissed his neck, saying his name and breathing him in. She rested on him, waiting for their hearts to stop racing.

He held her close and rolled them to the side, facing one another, looking in each others eyes. He shook his head and then he laughed breathily and disbelievingly. She joined him, her head falling to his chest. She lifted her head and kissed him. He pulled her close, as she felt him slip from her body. They both sighed, continuing to remain close.

She turned her head and looked up at the mirrors and watched him holding her, their limbs entwined, sweaty in the afterglow. She smiled and snuggled closer to him.

“If the guys were indeed the ones who put up the mirrors, hmmm, I’d like to send them a really nice thank you gift. A big one,” she said into his neck and he laughed. “Mulder, my god, I always thought mirrors on the ceiling were gross and tacky, but Jesus, it was erotic as hell.”

He laughed again, deeply this time, and she felt it shaking her body. He looked up at the mirrors and she followed his gaze. She watched him watch her as she watched his hands moving on her body.

“Mmm.. I can’t explain it, but I think you should keep them up there. I want you to, because I really like them,” she said with a shiver as his fingers grazed her still heated flesh.

“Yeah, I like them too,” he said, turning back to look in her eyes. They smiled at each other before shifting around and getting under the covers, the room chilly now as their heated bodies began to cool.

She snuggled into his side, her head on his shoulder, her arm and leg wrapped around him. He kissed her head as his fingers trailed up and down her arm. She hummed into his neck, kissing his sweat slicked skin. She yawned, moving closer to him.

“I have to be at my mother’s in a couple hours,” she said with a groan and another big yawn. He chuckled as he stroked her hair. “I need to go home, shower and change, and grab the Christmas gifts.” She fell asleep almost before she finished speaking.

She woke to Mulder stroking her face, telling her she needed to wake up. She opened her eyes, confused as to why she was in his bed. _Naked_ in his bed. And then she remembered and she smiled, closing her eyes. She heard him chuckle, saying again that she needed to get up and head to her mother’s. She moved closer to him, mumbling that that plan could get fucked. He laughed, but kept prodding at her to wake up.

“I don’t want your mother to be angry with me, especially on Christmas,” he said with a mock shudder, causing her body to shake with his. She laughed softly, groaning as she pulled away from him and got out of bed, searching for her clothes.

He kissed her goodbye at the front door, a long lingering kiss that made her head spin. She stepped back and narrowed her eyes at him. He laughed, kissed her once more, and she headed on her way.

She could not keep the smile off her face as she drove home, her thoughts on what had happened. The amazing way he had made her feel, his lips on her body, the taste of herself on his tongue, the feel of him inside her.

No longer did she check the backseat for ghosts. Instead, she kept glancing at her reflection in the mirror, remembering how she had looked in the mirrors as she lay naked in his bed and how she looked when she came. She felt flushed as she walked into her apartment, despite the cold of the morning and the freshly fallen snow.

*****************************************

The gifts from Auntie Dana that year were not wrapped, but the kids did not mind. Her brother had looked at her funny when she handed them the unwrapped gifts, his expression seeming to blame Mulder. She laughed internally at what her brother would say if he knew what Mulder had done to his baby sister just a few hours previously. If he heard how Mulder’s tongue had made her feel like her body was floating.

Her mother seemed to watch her throughout the morning, her expression harder to read than her brother’s. When she finally cornered her and commented on the fact that she seemed happy, Scully smiled and hugged her. If you only knew, she thought, as she laughed at how ridiculously happy she truly felt.

Her nephew walked by and offered her a candy cane. She took it and felt a blush creep onto her cheeks as she thought of the taste of Mulder’s mouth. The memory of the mint and the cocoa when her tongue tasted him, caused her to need to excuse herself for a few minutes.

When it was finally time to go, after what felt like the longest Christmas morning ever, she said goodbye to everyone and fairly ran out the door, and got in her car. She was buckling her seatbelt when her mother knocked on her window. She had a bag of leftovers and asked if she “happened to see Fox, to please make sure he get some.” Her mother then raised her eyebrows at her and smiled. Taking the bag of leftovers, Scully smiled back, promising that she would make sure he did. Her mother shook her head, but she smiled as she stepped back from the car, waving goodbye as Scully drove away.

*****************************************

Mulder was in bed with a mug of hot cocoa, chewing on a candy cane and watching the videotape Scully had given him for the second time that day, when he heard a sound in his apartment. The front door opened quietly and then closed. He smiled as he turned off the television, looking at the clock, knowing it had to be Scully. It had been a few hours since she left, but it felt longer. He closed his eyes and listened to her moving around.

He heard the fridge open and shut, then shoes clattering to the floor. The floor creaked as the bedroom door opened. He opened his eyes and there she was, looking beautiful in a dark green turtleneck sweater and black fitted pants that were quickly being removed, as she made her way to his bed.

He swung his legs over the side of the bed and sat up, setting his mug of cocoa down. She kicked off her pants, tossed her sweater to the side, and walked over to him wearing matching red silky underwear. He exhaled at the sight of her. God, she was exquisite. He wanted to look at her forever.

She picked up his mug and took a drink, setting it down before she stood between his legs and tilted his chin up to look at her. She stared at him and smiled as she brushed her fingers across his face and into his hair.

“Merry Christmas, Mulder,” she whispered, kissing his lips and tasting of his cocoa. She put his hands on her waist, and moved her hands to his shoulders. “Would you like to unwrap your present now?”

He hummed and ran his fingers across the silk of her underwear, feeling her tremble. He pulled them down, knowing there was no way this could ever become commonplace. He would never tire of her body being revealed to him. He divested her of her bra and he leaned his head back to look at her.

“Merry Christmas, Scully,” he said quietly, before grazing her hip bones, pulling her down on the bed, flush against his own naked body. She giggled and then moaned as his mouth began to show her how much he had missed her while she was gone.

The snow continued for the duration of the weekend. The wind blew, chilling the poor souls who had to venture outside. Inside apartment number 42 however, with leftovers, cocoa, and the warmth of heated bodies, it was cozy and happy. And for the first time, in what seemed like forever, it was not a lonely Christmas.

Not lonely at all.

  


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